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Wednesday, March 2, 2016

Peeking into my senior daughter's bedroom, "Minden, what are you up to?"

"Working on homework, as usual," she replied with resignation. She didn't even look up from the 28 pound American Government textbook. "I have at least two hours of work to do tonight."

"What the heck?" I exploded. "This is the third night this week you have been camped out in your room with homework. What exactly do you do in class? There is no way you can be working on your work if you have this much left!"

Minden looked up at me with a flash of anger in her eyes. "Seriously? In our block we spend all 100 minutes taking notes and listening to lecture. Then just before it is time to leave we get hammered with this work."

"Does he not get that he isn't the only teacher at school?" I groan. "Does he think you are only taking one class this year?"

"Because this is an advanced placement class, he says that he has to teach it like a college class. He said it has to be more rigorous because it is an upper level class." She explains. "He also says that if he doesn't cram all of this in, we won't be able to pass the advanced placement test."

"That guy has a real problem, doesn't he realize that in that same college class you would only be in his room for three hours a week tops, not four to six like you have at the high school?" I responded. "Of course you need to spend more time working outside of the classroom. When I was taking classes I was only in class fifteen to twenty hours a week. That left plenty of time for the homework. Does he think 'rigor' means hours of homework after an long lecture with PowerPoints?"

Minden grimaced, "Actually I think that is exactly what he thinks the word means."

"This is ridiculous, why don't you get out of this class and take the regular government class? Trust me, you will find the college class will be much easier to pass." I continued. "You are having to spend way too much time on this stuff. You're a senior, you should be enjoying the year and not be a slave to all of this crappy homework."

"I can't Dad, it is too late to switch and if I pass the test I won't have to take it in college," Minden sighed.

"I hate homework," I mutter as I push close her door.

While this is not a verbatim conversation I had with my daughter Minden last year, it is an honest amalgam of conversations that I had over her last two years of high school.